C O L O R S

S E P I A

Of all the things that causes depression, feeling unwanted is what Kris loathes the most. He thinks being ignored is a torment; that it is meant for things that are apt to be replaced. But he's not a mundane. He's a person, and no one deserves to feel, and be taken over.

Kris sits by the bedroom window, feet bouncing agitatedly as he bites the nails off his fingers. After that night with Grace, before the Christmas break takes place, and until the second of January in the new year, that's all he's been doing---staring out the window and trying to fathom his thoughts.

There's a medium-sized box on his bedside table, covered in a plain silver wrapper with a white ribbon set more to its side, that is now covered in dusts for staying there for days, untouched.

It is a simple gift for Rose---a token of appreciation, as he likes to call it---that he's bought on his first time wandering alone inside a mall. Since that day, he's been hoping that she will like its simplicity; that she will appreciate its beauty like how he appreciates hers.

Exactly on Christmas day, he's texted her to meet him in Hot Mugs so he can finally give it to her. But she never replied.

"Network problem," he's presumed. So even though she didn't send a single reply, he has worn his new pair of clothes and has gone to the coffee shop.

"I waited," he tells himself. But no Rose has ever showed up.

He has tried calling her, but all calls has been diverted to voicemail, and she hasn't called him back.

Facebook is not pretty much his thing---he doesn't have one---so being updated through it will never work. And so he wait.

Until gifts have been given, greetings have been exchanged, fireworks have been lit up to the sky, and carols have been sung, but his gift for her stays exactly where he's left it, waiting for the right time.

"Man, we should hang out," Raphael says in one of his voicemails, but Kris chooses to ignore it. He's never really gotten out of his room until it's time for his first Wednesday session with Dr. Sario that new year.

The place has never been so new to him. So new that he has to stay in one corner, unwary to everything around him. He's bouncing his feet, feeling so much far away from his comfort zone.

"Happy new year, Kris," the doctor says, hoping to get any reaction from him. But he just stares at the man, blankly, though series of reactions are running in his mind.

"He's gotten bigger," Kris comments upon seeing the doctor's bigger belly. "But he has new clothes," he adds, mentally complimenting Dr. Sario's new uniform, and completely ignoring his remarks.

"Kris?" He blinks, unaware of what the doctor has just said. "How's your new year?" Dr. Sario asks again as his forehead creases, revealing lines that tells of worries. But Kris still he doesn't answer, and instead lowers his head like his old self will usually do.

Dr. Sario then shakes his head with a frown as he scribbles something on his writing pad. He's thought that there has been an improvement in Kris' condition, but it turns out that his calculations aren't accurate. He has to come up with a different approach, he thinks, so he can know the core of Kris' problem.

"What about Kirt?" Kris instantly stiffens upon hearing his name, a thing the doctor has noticed, getting his attention. If Kris' stare is lingering on him just a while ago, now his gaze is fixated to only his bouncing feet.